


Sub Rosa

by reversetheuniverse



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M, Undercover, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:46:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reversetheuniverse/pseuds/reversetheuniverse
Summary: There’s no party for him the day he leaves.Of course, this isn’t an office or anything—they’re a spy organization. If they don’t take their jobs seriously, it could cost them their lives. So no cake, no real goodbye. They just set him up with special gear formulated for this specific mission, hand him ID cards, passports, etc. Director Hunter hands him an itinerary of who he is, telling him that he better damn well memorize it like the back of his hand and that he take on the persona written in the folder.One slip up. That’s all it takes and their entire operation goes down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a branch off of the idea that the fic "Mission (Not Quite) Accomplished" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/7275076) was using with Farkle as the main character, an undercover spy going by the named "Donnie Barnes". I know there are a few similar themes, which is why I am linking to this fic because I don't want it to seem like I'm stealing the idea, it's just a branch off of it.

“Hand me the binocs, Farks. I gotta see who’s coming outta that alley over there.”

“Yeah, sure. And stop calling me ‘Farks’. We’re undercover, and as far as you’re concerned, I’m Barnes. Donnie Barnes.”

“Look, I’ll call you _Bond_ for all I care. Just hand me the friggin’ binocs!” the blonde screeches at him, smacking him on the arm. He hands them over begrudgingly, tugging his black beanie over his hair more out of habit than to fix it.

 “Okay, but consider this, _Peaches_ ,” he says, and the girl turns her head on a dime. “We could be tapped right now. You let my name slip, it’s the end of me. You’re gonna have to find another partner to deal with all over again.”

 “First of all, you’re an _idiot_ ,” she chides him, her eyes narrowed at him. “And second of all, I will never, in the history of _ever_ , refer to you as “Donnie Barnes”. You and I went to the same school since we were five and ended up right here,” she gestures wildly between the two of them, “right now. I think I get the right to call you Farkle when we’re sitting in the car in a darkened parking deck, waiting for some shifty character who _might_ be the person we’re looking for. Also, I _hate it_ when you call me Peaches. It sounds like you picked me out of a Farmers Market bin of old, bruised fruit. You’re gonna call me Maya and then we’re gonna call it a day.”

 “Do I have to remind you that _you_ picked the name, Maya?”

 “Just shut up and watch the building next to that alley over there,” she says in a clipped tone. Farkle heaves a sigh, giving up on his argument and returning to his watch with Maya.

As usual, no one out of the ordinary pops up, and Farkle spends his time wondering what might’ve happened if he never took the initiative to be a spy in the first place.

He likes to think he might have been an astrophysicist.

 

//

 

“Genius. _The Bomb_ ,” their director greets the two of them at the crisp, ripe old hour of six o’clock in the morning when they enter Mars headquarters. Maya pumps her fists after his words, smacking Farkle in the arm a couple of times alongside it.

“ _YES!!!_ ”

“The Bomb?” Farkle asks, arching his brow.

“That’s my new codename, Farkle. It was approved by the board—no more ‘Peaches’ for me!” she shouts, somehow giddy although they’ve been up the entire duration of the night.

“Enough playing around, you two,” Director Hunter pulls them from their momentary distraction, his stern voice cutting through to them. Maya and Farkle stand upright, trying to hide any traces of exhaustion from their eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” they address him in unison.

“Any findings from your mission?” he asks.

“No, Sir,” Maya answers him.

“No one entered or exited the building the whole night, Sir. It was clear as can be. If you want to find out more, you might want to send someone inside,” Farkle explains further. Director Hunter considers his statement for a moment, concluding with,

“Alright, you two. Go wash up and sleep in the break room. Report back at 1300. Dismissed.” Maya and Farkle nod, departing from the director and going down the hall to the break room. Maya leans over and pulls the beanie off of Farkle’s head, mussing up his hair.

“Hey!”

“You gotta get rid of this thing, Farks. You look like a dork when you wear it,” Maya tells him, stuffing the hat into her coat pocket.

“I’ll have you know, when I’m Donnie Barnes, I look _fantastic_ in that,” he remarks, stealing the hat back and placing it into his own pocket.

“You’re the same person, Dipshit, and you look the same—a dork either way.”

“But you love me anyway?” Farkle asks her with a wide grin, waggling his eyebrows. Maya lands a hard punch on his arm, rolling her eyes at him.

“Let’s just go get some rest. We’ve had a _long_ night.”

 

//

 

“Alright, Farkle. Stop lazing around so we can go report back to Hunter. He’s expecting two of his top agents right now, and you’re still drooling like an idiot and hugging your pillow like it’s a lifeline. _Get ‘er up!_ ”

Once again, Farkle finds himself being slapped awake by his partner in crime, his **Farkle Time™** with the break room bed being dissolved immediately. He relinquishes his death grip on the pillow and wipes at his mouth with his sleeve, rising to meet Maya’s icy-blue eyes afterward.

“Now?” he asks groggily.

“Yeah, _now_. C’mon, you’ve gotten enough time to sleep.” She tugs him up off the bed, helping him up to his feet hastily. He slaps away her hands when she tries to push him out the door, waving her off.

“ _I got it_ ,” he huffs, dusting off his jacket. “Just give me a few seconds to get my bearings, okay? That stakeout took an ungodly amount of energy off of me.”

“I would say yes, but he’s been asking for you specifically this time. Whaddya do, total a car again?”

“Har _har_ ,” Farkle mocks, unamused. “ _No_ , I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what Director Hunter wants.”

“Maybe he wants to promote you. You are Farkle Minkus—kickass secret agent. And then maybe he’ll rename the organization to ‘Farkle Nation’.” He scoffs at that.

“Ha! You’re just trying to butter me up now so I’ll tell you, aren’t you?” Maya shrugs, tugging him by the sleeve to get him out the door.

“I would _never_.” She glances at him, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “But did it work?” Farkle shakes his head, chuckling at his small blonde friend.

“Nope. I would have to know stuff for it to work. Try again next time, mon amie.”

Maya knocks into his shoulder as they walk side-by-side down the hallway, their eyes glossing over the sleek architecture of the building as they walk through. Farkle feels a tug on his heart as he soaks in the familiarity of it all—the spy life has become all that he is, really. Take that away, and what is he?

Mars is his home, and he _dares_ anyone try and take it away from him.

They finally find their way to the center of the building, aka the “Core”, sliding their ID badges along the magnetic strip to gain access inside. The metallic doors slide open in response, a gust of air bursting outward past them. Maya and Farkle step inside the Core, the beeping and clicking of a million computers going off at once blaring in the background. They find their way towards the table where Director Hunter is seated, waiting patiently for them to make their way over.

“Ah, there’s my two favorite agents. You sleep well?” he asks them as they sit down.

“Yes, Sir,” they both respond at once.

“Good. I need you at your top performance right now. You ready for your next mission?” Maya and Farkle nod at once, poised and at attention. “Alright. I’ll let you stay for the debriefing, Hart, but for once, you’re not partnered up with Minkus here. He’s taking a solo mission.” Maya’s eyebrows shoot into her forehead and Farkle’s eyes widen with surprise.

“A solo mission, Sir?” he asks.

“That’s correct, Minkus. We need an inside job done, and you’re our go-to man. It’s for a mission that’s been in progress for a long while, one that we already have someone on. You remember Isaiah Babineaux, correct?”

Farkle remembers him for sure—he was his first partner at Pluto before he got reassigned. He and Farkle got along famously, so when he had to be replaced, Farkle wasn’t too fond of that. But then Maya got assigned to him and he couldn’t complain too much about that, and he wouldn’t want to. She’s his best friend, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yes, Sir. He’s the one working on the Pluto mission, right?” Director Hunter nods his head.

“That’s correct. He’s been there for five years now, delivering intelligence on Pluto to us regularly. He recently sent us news that is, well, _frightening_ , to say the least. I’ll have one of our top assets, Miss Smackle, explain it to you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” a girl with glasses and long-flowy black hair says, sitting at the table in front of Farkle and Maya. She pulls two briefcases off of the floor, flipping one open to reveal a laptop, entering a double-lock code into the other and extracting the files from it once it’s opened.

“So what’s the scoop, Smacks?” Maya asks her in that annoying way that only Maya can manage. Smackle doesn’t pay her any heed, her focus entirely on Farkle.

“Agent Minkus, it has come to our attention recently that Agent Babineaux has been discovering some unsettling findings at Pluto. In his most recent email, he addressed that some armaments are being developed using uranium and plutonium, and that they have been testing said armaments with succession. Other technologies are being developed at an alarming rate, and Agent Babineaux cannot stop it on his own.”

“So you need someone to go in there and stop whatever’s happening?”

“Correction: we need _you_ to go in there and stop whatever’s happening. We need you to go undercover and infiltrate the system. You need to become one of the top agents working under Pluto, and we need you to get close enough that we can gain more in-depth intelligence and put an end to this arms race before it gets out of hand. Do you think you can do that, Agent Minkus?” Farkle gulps, but nods his head.

“Can do.”

“Good, then we can get started on your transition into Pluto as soon as possible. You’re going to spend the entire week getting prepped for transplantation, and if you fail to be ready by the end of the week, then you are to be taken off the case, detached from The Bomb,” Maya snickers at her use of her new codename, but Farkle can only jab his elbow into her side in response, “And sent back to boot camp for the next five years. We expect great things from you, Agent Minkus. Don’t fail us now.” Smackle closes the laptop briefcase and then extracts a manila folder from the double-lock case before closing it, as well. She slides the folder over to Farkle, departing with a bow afterward.

“You are to report to Polar at 0500 each day of the week, Agent Minkus. Please make sure you do so in a timely fashion. Also, your partnership with Miss Hart here is dissolved effective immediately. Dismissed.” Maya and Farkle rise from the table, saluting the director before exiting the Core. Maya watches Farkle carefully out of the corner of her eye, studying his expression.

“So whaddya think, Farks? You’re gonna go undercover, the biggest mission you’ve ever been on yet!” Farkle shrugs, the gravity of the situation still settling in his mind.

“Yeah, it’s pretty great, I guess. I just . . . this is all so sudden. I have to leave by the end of the week, Maya.”

“You’re gonna be a big shot across the boards, kid,” she says. Farkle’s lips draw into a thin line.

“That’s not it. I’m gonna be gone for god knows how long. Zay’s been out there for _five years_. What are you gonna do by yourself, Maya?” Maya’s face darkens at his question, her gaze lingering on the ground.

He knows her too well, knows that she’s never done fine on her own. Maya Hart may appear as brick and stone, but on the inside she’s as soft as a feather pillow. Being on her own has never been good for her.

“Oh, you know me, Farks. I’ll ride the wind wherever it takes me. I’ll be a-okay.” Farkle _knows_ that’s not true. He stops Maya in the middle of the hallway, his hands planted firmly on her shoulders, his eyes staring into hers.

“ _Maya_ ,” he says, “I’m serious. I don’t want you to be alone. If you need anything, just call me, okay? I know it’ll be tough, but I want you to know that I’m here for you no matter what.”

“ _Okay_ ,” she whispers, and Farkle understands her silent appreciation.

He’s gonna miss her for sure.

 

//

 

By the end of the week, Farkle’s _exhausted_.

He’s gone undercover before, for sure, but this is just _too much_. There’s been so much debriefing in so little time, and he’s gotta own up to his own undercover persona now.

Donnie Barnes isn’t just a name he throws around willy nilly anymore. It’s who he is for the rest of god knows how long, and he’s gonna have to adjust to the switch. Even Maya’s been forced to call him Donnie, and each time she does say his name, it’s quite begrudgingly. But he doesn’t really expect anything less from her.

There’s no party for him the day he leaves.

Of course, this isn’t an office or anything—they’re a _spy_ organization. If they don’t take their jobs seriously, it could cost them their lives. So no cake, no _real_ goodbye. They just set him up with special gear formulated for this specific mission, hand him ID cards, passports, etc. Director Hunter hands him an itinerary of who he is, telling him that he better damn well memorize it like the back of his hand and that he take on the persona written in the folder.

One slip up. That’s all it takes and their entire operation goes down.

“Here you go, Farks,” Maya says before he saunters off to load up in his state-owned car, ignoring the pointed glares of Director Hunter insisting she call him Donnie and handing him something. He grabs the item from her, studying it in his hands as she explains it. “It’s an old pager of sorts. We can send messages through it, and it’s virtually undetectable by spy tech. That way you and I can keep in touch, and if anything serious happens you can just signal me.” Farkle nods, jamming the pager into his pocket.

“Thanks, Maya,” he acknowledges with a half-hearted smile. “I’m gonna miss you.” He doesn’t point it out to her, but he notices very visibly the tears playing at the corners of her eyes.

“Don’t get sentimental on me now, Minkus,” she tells him, bumping her fist against his arm softly. “I don’t want you to be in tears looking like a wuss as you go to your new home.” Farkle doesn’t laugh at her attempt at a joke, but pulls her into a tight embrace, instead.

“Don’t go getting into trouble. I won’t be there to save your ass as usual.” Maya snorts, burying her nose into his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Now go get ‘em, tiger. You’ve got a world to save.” She parts ways with him, waving as she exits the Core with eyes a raw-red from crying. It tugs at Farkle’s heart that she’s crying over him, and that he won’t be seeing her for a _long_ time, possibly not ever again.

“Alright, Barnes. The car’s waiting out front with directions to your pickup location,” Director Hunter interrupts. Farkle nods his head, picking up his bags from the ground and standing at attention.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s been a pleasure working with you here, Minkus,” he says with a wink, slipping up one last time, letting his own sentiments show for once. “Do Mars proud.”

“As always, Sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Farkle obeys orders from his director, turning around to head towards the electric doors. They open after he slides his card through the reader, the familiar _whoosh_ of the Core’s doors blasting apart gracing his ears one final time.

He pays a silent _adieu_ to the only real home he’s ever known, all eyes on him as he pushes through the front doors of the building the last time for a _long_ while.

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist doing the spy AU! I have to put my grubby little paws on every AU I can eat up, so for that, I apologize. And I know, I KNOW there's already a spy AU fic being written, and it's SO GOOD DON'T GET ME WRONG, but it hasn't updated in forever and I NEED THIS AU SOOOOO BADLY. So I'm writing it myself. Similar themes, but a completely different plot line altogether. I don't like stealing people's ideas, so I've been trying my best to make this fic different from the other one. 
> 
> Also, on a scale of 1-10, how bad is it that I'm starting another multi-chap fic with no plan? I mean, I fully intend on working on both this and the zombie AU I've been writing. I work on them simultaneously (and started them simultaneously, too), so neither will be cancelled fics. But I can't promise I'll be fast with them, because I am only human and also in school studying things that are not writing. Fear not, though! I always write, and I'm working on the next chapters of both fics :)
> 
> Anyway, love you guys, thanks for reading, and feedback is always welcome! :)
> 
> Also also, who doesn't love Maya & Farkle as the ultimate brotp? They're so good. I love those children. And I love Riley and Maya and Farkle together all the time. They are the best.


End file.
